The Contest Of Liberties And Security

By DIANE CARDWELL

Published: July 26, 2004

When city officials recently denied a permit for use of the Great Lawn in Central Park for what could become the largest protest of the Republican National Convention, they cited potential damage to the grass as their chief concern.

But according to a horticultural expert who worked on refurbishing the lawn, it was designed to withstand the abuse of large crowds since the grass was planted in a special soil mix so that it could take the weight and traffic without reverting to the great dust bowl it had once been.

In rejecting the notion of political protest on the Great Lawn, officials clearly had something more on their minds than just the health of the bluegrass, ryegrass and fescue planted there. In fact, the decision to move the expected 250,000 demonstrators of United for Peace and Justice away from the park to the far West Side of Manhattan has become the clearest illustration yet of the Bloomberg administration's fundamental feelings about civil protest, an often-tense relationship that has been deeply affected by the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, and by Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg's distaste for disorder.

In an interview on Friday, Police Commissioner Raymond W. Kelly cited the terror attacks as the principal reason why the protesters, no less than any other Americans, must face new limits on their liberties, as much for their own safety as the city's.

''The danger is that people think that we're doing it somehow to intimidate a demonstration, so that's kind of the dilemma we find ourselves in,'' Mr. Kelly said, adding that any congregation of significant numbers of people constitutes a terrorist target because of the potential for mass casualties.

''When we bring these issues up, it's: 'Why are you hiding behind the terrorist threat? You're looking to restrict demonstrations just because you don't want demonstrations,''' he said. ''I think demonstrators have to recognize that everybody's lives have changed, and they need some accommodation and some acceptance of the fact that it's a different environment that we're all living in now.'' He added that he has seen few signs the demonstrators recognize that.

Many free-speech advocates and protest organizers are bitter about the administration's decision to declare vast swaths of Central Park, like the Great Lawn and the North Meadow, off-limits to protest for fear of damage to the turf.

''The parks are not too precious for protests that don't have a libretto,'' said Donna Lieberman, executive director of the New York Civil Liberties Union, noting that the city regularly allows audiences for classical music and opera on the grass. ''The city can't take a time-honored public space out of circulation. I think putting the park off-limits to protest is a serious problem, and it's one that is not going to go away and will ultimately end up in the courts if it doesn't change.''

Indeed, the fight over Central Park reflects the degree to which the city's constant refurbishing appears to be about to collide with its traditional role as a hub for free speech. As the city's public spaces have become ever-more welcome gathering spots for residents, workers and tourists, they have become more complicated for those wishing to organize large protests.

''There has been a closing up of public space where you can have a demonstration,'' said Leslie Cagan, a veteran organizer who is coordinating the huge protest by United for Peace and Justice on Aug. 29, the day before the convention begins. ''Some of that has good intentions, parks that get renovated where they put in sculptures and benches,'' she said, adding that some city plazas had been improved in similar ways. ''It's all very nice if you're going for lunch, but it means that there really isn't any place where you can assemble a large crowd. You can still demonstrate, but you don't get the same sense of a whole.''

Parks Department officials counter that they are not closing the park to protesting, and cite permits they have issued for smaller rallies, including one granted Friday to the New York chapter of the National Organization for Women, which had originally sought the Great Lawn, for about 50,000 people to protest on the East Meadow. The parks commissioner, Adrian Benepe, said in a recent interview that it was a more appropriate location for protest activities and would remain so even if renovated, because its surface, largely bare dirt, is not susceptible to the same kind of damage.

The standoff between the city and United for Peace and Justice has left each side angry and mistrustful of the other. City officials argue that they are letting the protesters have their say while minimizing the disruption to the rest of the city, a Bloomberg administration priority, but the protesters, who ultimately settled on a rally site along the West Side Highway, feel they are being forced like barely tolerated stepchildren into a marginal location with no meaning for average New Yorkers.

''Protesters think about having a peaceful demonstration,'' said Robert J. McGuire, a security consultant who was police commissioner in the early 1980's when demonstrators held a huge Central Park rally against nuclear weapons. ''But the Police Department is always doing the worst-case planning exercise: What if a bomb goes off in the middle of a demonstration? It's just a very different perspective.''